


T-Bag's Tattoo

by Galgenvogel



Series: Grimm's Fairy Tales [2]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Domination, Dubious Consent, M/M, Prison Sex, Racism, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slurs, Smut, Violence, explicit violence, lots of racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galgenvogel/pseuds/Galgenvogel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about T-Bag's time in Donaldson Correctional Facility, Alabama.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	T-Bag's Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> I've actually written a lot of background stuff, so I just thought I'd put them into a series.  
> So, you should read [the first part of the series](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3661659?view_full_work=true) before anything else

 

Susan had handed him in. The betrayal still lay heavy on his chest when he was lead through the gates of Donaldson Correctional Facility. The usual routine followed, stating your name and number, bending over, putting on a uniform, getting your survival kit. Theodore Bagwell had been through all of this before in juvie. Now roughly 20 years later he was back in the system. Hopefully he would be able to reconcile with some old friends. He needed to. Otherwise he would be taken apart in the showers. Prison usually wasn't very kind to child molesters.

He entered the cell that would be his new home for a life plus one. Since the top one seemed to be in use he put his stuff on the bottom bunk. His cellmate was nowhere in sight, but the pictures on the wall and literature stacked up on the small desk gave away everything he needed to know. "Hunter", "Heart of Darkness", "The Turner Diaries" and finally a picture of three men in front of the confederate flag.

This took a load of Theodore's mind. The guy seemed to be a decent American. He just wondered which one of them his cellmate was.

 

\- - -

 

Theodore knew his own kind, he could smell them a mile away. So he strolled to the bleachers. He could only see three of them in the yard. Hopefully there were more roaming about the facility, otherwise this was a very poor Alliance... 

The Alabamian went straight for it:  
"AFP?"  
"Who's asking?", the guy with cropped, dark hair sitting on a bench between the other two called out.  
"Theodore Bagwell. Ah want in." The guy nodded, squinting his eyes.  
"You'll have to talk to Preacher about that, fish."  
"'N where do Ah find him?" Theodore looked around the yard. Some black inmates were observing him.  
"Cell 23."  
"Well, Ah guess we share that penthouse.", Theodore sniggered. The slender, blonde on the bottom bench suddenly got up and walked away. Bagwell's eyes followed him irritated.  
"Oh. Don't worry about Maytag, here. He's just a little brought down." Theodore turned back and noticed the guy with cropped hair examined the Alabamian head to toe. "I guess yer in for a treat then.", he winked grinning. Theodore wrinkled his brows. "Henry Metzger, we call him Preacher, 'cause he was the spokesman of the Aryan Front for its best years. He has the keys, so you better not fuck with him. Take this as a kind warning."  
"Will keep that in mind.", Theodore nodded once.   
"I'm Flint, this is Rabbit.", he pointed to the guy behind him. Rabbit inspected him with skillful eyes. Theodore soon would learn that acquiring a name was a necessity to get into the higher ranks.

 

\- - -

 

"Look Preach, here comes your new cellie.", a guy leaning against the bars of Theodore's cell chuckled. Preacher was a tall man, muscular and with a grim expression. His sleeveless shirt revealed tattoos all over his arms. There were probably more on his chest. He was shooing away the guy at the entrance, when Theodore came nearer and stepped out of the cell.  
Now every inmate quickly assembled in front of their cells for count. All the while Theodore eyed Preacher cautiously from the side.

"You Preacher?", he said to the taller man as the CO passed them. "Do I smell fresh meat?", the supremacist hummed, eyeing up the fish when they turned to enter the cell again.

"Ah want in.", Theodore entered after him and watched Preacher slump down onto the bottom bunk, Theodore's bunk. "You're already in.", Preacher was still humming.  
"Ah meant the Alliance." The bars rolled shut.  
"Come here, sit down.", Preacher patted the space next to him. Theodore decided it best not to challenge him as a first impression, so he sat.  
"What are you in for?"

"Ah... Killed a bunch of teenagers."

"Tough guy, huh? Maybe _raped_ them, too?" That word spread a familiar soreness in the smaller man's throat. Theodore didn't answer and that told Preacher everything.  
"But I meant: What are you _in_ for?" Oh, now they were talking.

"Like they say... In for an inch in for a mile.", an awkward grin spread over Theodore's face. He really hoped he hadn't messed it up already.

"Hmm, with those puppy eyes I can hardly believe you actually had to rape some kids."  
"No kids.", Theodore muttered perplexed.  
"Yeah..." The other con made a purring sound. "It's your lucky day, boy." He must have been some years younger than Theodore so it was really strange to hear him being adressed with the connotation _boy_. "This your first time in prison?"  
"Ah've been ta juvie before."  
"Yeah, but that's not really the same now, is it." Preacher reached out and grabbed the Alabamian's face harshly and turned it to the side.  
"Aren't you a handsome one...", Preacher now whispered. "You got manners aswell?" Theodore eyed him suspiciously.

"Yes...", he muttered cautiously earning a hard slap in the following second.  
"It's ' _yes, sir_ '."  
"...Yes, sir.", Theodore whispered. "Good boy." Preacher stroke gently over the red mark that was now forming on the Alabamian's cheek.  
"I think we'll get along quite well. Now, since this is your first time to prison, I'm going to offer you a little... Welcoming gift. The niggers out there are just waiting to take you apart, once they heard about the shit you did. They'll probably get you on the way to lunch or await you in the showers. And you don't want to get involved with the savages, right? Lucky for you, you stumbled just into the right cell. Now, me and my boys, we take care of our own." His hand trailed it's way across Theodore's chest. Theodore's brain switched on all its survival instincts.

  
"What - what do Ah have ta do." Theodore Bagwell tried to sound as casual as possible.  
"Give me your hand." He offered his palm and Theodore slowly raised his left hand. "The other one." The right one this time and slowly laid it down into his palm. "You really start out promising." He grinned and pulled out a little box from underneath the bunk. It contained a sharpened paperclip and a little tin.  
"What're ya gonna do...?"

"Making sure that the others know where your... Loyalties lie." The tin contained a thick dark liquid. Selfmade ink, from the smell Theodore deduced it was probably a mix of ashes and shampoo.  
He dipped a tissue in aftershave and rubbed the wet cloth over his ring finger. Theodore scrunched his eyes as the improvised needle pierced repeatedly into the flesh of his ring finger. It stang, but it was definitely better than being gang raped. At least for now. He just hoped he wouldn't draw little swastikas around it. He didn't look forward to what this guy eventually had in mind for him. But then again it was nothing he hadn't already been through.  
Preacher took a tissue and poured some aftershave over it. He rubbed it over the wound to disinfect it. It stang and burned all the more.

"And you didn't even cry." The tall man smiled. "I think I like you already."  
Theodore shiveringly inspected his hand. The finger was crimson red and burned. A line of x and o circled around the base.

"Now, let's seal the deal..."  
A rush of fear crawled over Theodore's neck again. He had hoped that there was still some time before they got to that part... 

"What... What do ya want me ta do."   
"Hang a sheet." The other man sat back and Theodore slowly got up from the bunk. The sheet fell, seperating them from the rest of the cellblock.  
"Now, come here and put those pretty lips to good use..." The Alabamian reluctantly knelt down between the other man's legs. It had been a while for him. But if he did it just right Theodore would leave a lasting impression. He opened Preacher's blue cotton trousers and gently pulled out the other man's member. The guy definitely had no reason to be selfconcious about his dick. He slowly began to stroke it, squeezing gently when he reached the base. Preacher grew hard and Theodore moved his head towards it. He licked the tip, then sucked it gently as he moved the cock further in.

"Hm, you've done this before.", Preacher hummed approvingly. Bagwell's lips curled around the shaft, the back of his tongue caressing the sensitive tip. He felt the other man's strong fingers entwine in his hair. He bobbed his head, first slow then increasing his pace. Theodore let his throat muscles swallow around Preacher's dick sporadically, so that he had him panting and baring his teeth. Making sure this was the blowjob the Alliance leader won't forget for the rest of his bid.  
When Preacher's hips started to surge forward, trying to pound into the Alabamian's mouth, Theodore knew he had him. He tripled his efforts, let his tongue dance wildly and hollowed his cheeks forcefully as he slid back and forth again and again. Preacher pressed Theodore's head down into his crotch and came all the way down his throat. The smaller man forced himself not to cough, not to choke, and moved away when Preacher's grip released him. For a moment Theodore thought about spitting into the toilet. _Manners_ , he reminded himself and gulped the rest of bitterness down.

"Good boy.", Preacher stroked Theodore's cheek with two fingers and tugged himself back in. Theodore slowly stood up.  
"You certainly know how to suck cock.", the supremacist stated intrigued. "I hope you'll turn out to be a good investment in the future... Sleep tight." He got up and climbed onto the top bunk as the smaller man sat down on his own bed.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued  
> (Btw, this Maytag is not Jason Buchanan)


End file.
